Better Bad Luck

Broke-down '49 Ford by the side of the road
Hubcaps shining but it won't carry the load
Lucky we don't have anywhere special to go
Maybe we'll just settle down here, I don't know

Why don't we look at it philosophically
Coulda broke down in the Lincoln Tunnel halfway to Jersey
Instead of this fireplace Fall in the Catskill range
I believe we're on a run of better bad luck for a change

It feels like a holiday from jail
There's no way in the world out here to fail
All out stuff in the car, high hopes for a good clean break
from the life we left behind for true love's sake

Hey, babe, reach over and give me five
Hey, ain't it good to be alive?
Don't you get the feeling we've arrived?
A hundred and fifty miles from the nearest jive

Hey, ain't it good to alive?

Might have to eat my words in an hour or two
When the sun hangs low in the heaven and the cold clear dew
begins collecting on the hood - the hood of our broke-down '49 Ford
reflecting the moon
I'll get to worrying then, but not too soon

Would you like to take over and pretend to drive?
Ain't it good - good to be alive?
Here in the fireplace Fall of the Catskill Range
I believe we're on a run of better bad luck for a change
Hey, babe, ain't it good to be alive?
a hundred and fifty miles from the nearest jive?
Hey, ain't it good?
Hey, ain't it good?
Hey, ain't it good?

They make their break for a better life, but Murphy's '49 Ford gets them only as far as the Catskills before breaking down.
He resigns himself, philosophically, by saying that their luck is not as bad as it could be:
"[We] coulda brole down in the Lincoln Tunnel halfway to Jersey."